


The Good Old Days

by Ace_of_Allis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25403920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_of_Allis/pseuds/Ace_of_Allis
Summary: Arthur is a strained husband and father of twins who yearns the life he once knew. Tired of the mundane cycles his life has become, he starts to take risks that remind him of the days of his youth and neglects his family until it may be too late.(Also posted on Fanfiction.net)
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, it's Allis. So, I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this story just yet because it's such a work in progress, but I thought it would be best to get it out there and show a bit preview of my idea. I'm not sure when I'm going to get it really going, but I'm in summer school at the moment, so I'm hoping once that's over I'll be able to post on a schedule. Finally, this story will have very heavy themes. I will put trigger warnings before the chapters that will have these themes, but these themes will play a crucial role in this story. Therefore, if you are not able to read stories with themes of sex/drugs/addictions, please don't read. I will fully understand. For those of you who do not feel comfortable reading this, I have another Hetalia story in the works which will contain a happier tone. Lastly, I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. Thank you.

The days felt neverending. Each and every one he endeared just seemed to run through a melancholic drag, the motions he ran through becoming like clockwork. Was this really life? If this was it for him, it was anything _but_ a wonderful life that he promised himself during the days of his youth. But as much as he loathed it, he plastered a soft smile on his lips each day and carried on.

Arthur's body felt weighted as he hauled himself from his bed, his back cracking from chronic insomnia that preyed on his nights. Of course, when you're spending your nights with a diva whose dream is to sprawl across the mattress, it's hard to catch even a wink of a good night's sleep. But what point was there to worry or complain? It's not like a simple chat with his husband could change a thing. It had been this way for ages and that's how it would stay.

The Brit trudged to his mirror, his hand flowing through the motions as he brushed through his blond locks, checking for any stray hairs in his chin. He glanced over his weary emerald eyes, gently rubbing at the forming bags. He let out a soft sigh, ignoring the need to fix his face as he turned to pull out the first shirt and tie he was able to grasp, throwing on the garments before heading down the stairs.

The stairs creaked as he made his way down. He was fixing up his tie as he entered the kitchen, going straight to grab a scone from the pantry, sticking the bland pastry into his mouth. He half expected to hear the screeching wail of a kettle on the stove, but shook his head to the notion. Francis hadn't gotten up to make him his earl grey in what felt like years. He was a fool to even reminiscence on the dying memory. He gave a sigh.

He leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath as the pitter patter of feet echoed down the stairs and stumbled into the kitchen. A cheer-filled face, framed by glasses just a bit too big ran up to embrace Arthur by his waist.

Still in his superhero jammies, the boy's hair was a ruffled mess, and from just a short sniff. It was obvious he had not even _tried_ to brush his teeth the night before. But he didn't seem bothered in the least. "Dad! Dad!" The boy's voice was glazed with animation. "Can you take me camping this weekend?"

Arthur couldn't help the smile forming against his lips. He patted the boy's head gently and chuckled. "I've told you already, lad. Papa and I have a reunion." He knelt down to ruffle his golden mane. "But I'll take you one of these days, alright, Alfred?" He kissed his son's forehead.

After his initial pout, Alfred bursted into his own grin, something that elated Arthur for once. "You gotta promise me!" The boy demanded, holding out a pinky towards his father.

Arthur took it happily. "I promise." With another kiss to his head, he got up and patted his back. "Go get your brother and make sure papa is up. We don't want you late for school, love." He took a deep breath as he watched his son scurry off.

He then went to put on his shoes. Right foot, then left. Per usual. Maybe next time he'd switch it up. Left, then right. Now that would be an interesting turn of events, he would tell himself. As he began to gather his things, another set of steps came into play. By the heaviness of them, he could immediately recognise the culprit. "Good morning, Francis." He said blankly

Francis glanced over from his spot in the kitchen, biting back a yawn. " _Bonjour, mon lapin_." He grabbed some cups as he began to pour some juice for the boys, not yet looking towards the Brit. "Leaving without a goodbye kiss?" He grinned, more so to himself.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Why shouldn't I? You haven't offered me a goodbye kiss since the boys started school last year." He didn't care to hide the glazing bluntness of his tone.

Francis paused and frowned a bit. "Ah, _mon ange_. You usually leave before I get up to take the boys." He pouted shortly, pouring himself a glass.

"Oh, right." Arthur strained a laugh. "I forgot, your beauty sleep is far more important. We wouldn't want you looking like a frog, just in case the Queen stops by." He mocked.

The Frenchman tapped his fingers against the counter and rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe if you actually spend your nights sleeping and not staring at those horrible screens of yours, you would be less grumpy and I would _want_ to kiss you more often." He retorted curtly, making a face.

"I don't have time for your nonsense." The shorter man gathered his things, shutting down any further response from his husband. "Good day to you. I will be home later." And with that, he was out the door, giving it a quick lock.

Arthur quickly left the scene behind, heading down the streets he had become all too familiar with over the years. Ever since he was young, he traced the paved path that lead him to and from The Tube. Nowadays, it was an effortless feat to get to his train on time and transfer over and over until he found himself walking up the way to his work.

Sometimes, however, he wished he would be late.

It wasn't anything interesting, really. Hell, it wasn't even what he _wanted_ to do with his life. Who would want to? Surely, to him, it couldn't be anybody's _actual_ dream. Or maybe he was being critical.

Arthur plopped down in his cubicle, sinking in his seat in an attempt to hide himself from his coworkers. He didn't see a point in even trying to befriend those blokes anyway. Sure, he'd sign a birthday card or two, make small talk by the water cooler, or even nod his head to them as he came to and fro, but he rather preferred to keep to himself.

The blond never wished to affiliate himself with these people. The difference between him and them was simple: He wasn't content. He'd apologize to anyone he needed to for this thought, but he didn't want to do this forever. After all..

C _lick, click, type, click, type, type, click._

It got a bit irksome after a while. Half the time he forgot what his position was. But who could blame him? This wasn't even close to what he had dreamed of doing with his life. At least it paid well. Because of him, his husband barely had to work. While it was unfair, he didn't feel the need to argue and cause _another_ issue in the household. He just left it be.

After the clock struck five and he clocked out from work, he followed along in his routine Without even murmuring a real goodbye to his peers, he carried himself to the pub down the street, perching himself on the stool. He never needed to speak to the bartender anymore. With as often as he came in, it was no secret as to what he'd order, but honestly, Athur would drink anything that was put in front of him.

It never mattered. It all tasted the same anyway to him. The old sting he would feel in the reckless drinking days of youth was completely gone now. But while he could throw it down, it was hard for him to hold his own. And having the bartender know this, it was harder for him to drink to forget his sorrows.

Besides, after his past with drinking, even he knew better than to get shitfaced and fall back into an even worse routine than he was already confided to. He swore he wouldn't go down that path again.

Then again, what if it was good for him? Was it worth to put that spark in his life? He shook his head and sipped his drink, taking a deep breath. He knew better. But he couldn't help but continue to ask himself…

Was there more to life than this?


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it's Allis. So, I wanted to get the first real chapter out because the next week or so is super busy for me and I know the prologue isn't the most exciting thing to read. I'm not sure when chapter 2 will be released, but I'm hoping to get it out in the first week of August. Enjoy!

Arthur stared at himself in the mirror, studying his facade closely as he tied the tie that hung loosely around his neck. Most nights he couldn't care less about his appearance. Well, even now, he didn't _want_ to care. But he felt obligated to care.

While reminiscing on the days of high school were more than just a pain to the Brit, he figured it could be a good night. No, not only because he knew it would make his husband happy to visit with old friends, but maybe this could be an escape for a night. Maybe even an ego booster.

With the feeling of gloom always hanging over Arthur's shoulders, perhaps proving to himself he _was_ pretty successful could be a ray of hope in his life. As mean as it sounded, it would be a relief to see his former classmates be much less fortunate in life than he was. After all the short ends he had gotten, it was only fair that someone else, in his eyes, get one.

" _Mon lapin?_ " Francis called from their bedroom, combing back his magnificent locks into a handsome ponytail. "Can you come here, please?"

Arthur gave himself one last run down of the eyes before he took a deep breath and proceeded back to the Frenchman, admiring his attire. He always did forget how nice Francis looked in a vest. Even if it was a bit too formal for the occasion.

Francis rubbed his chin. "Tell me, _mon ange._ " He glanced at his lover through the vanity mirror, motioning to the fuzz that was sprinkled on his chin and jawline. "Should I trim the stubble?"

The Brit blinked and rolled his eyes shortly. "I don't see why it matters what I think." He crossed his arms and sat on the bed. "You rarely listen to me when I comment."

The other man raised a brow and turned to face Arthur. "Well, can't blame me, _non_? Not after you let those shrubs grow on your face." He shrugged and turned back around to idolize himself more.

Arthur growled lowly. "I didn't ask you, git." As soon as he heard the ringing of the doorbell through the house, he quickly straightened up, heading towards the stairs. "Whoever you hired better be reliable." He grumbled. He wasn't even sure why he let his husband choose a sitter for that night. He never hesitated to admit that his husband only seemed to know irresponsible people.

"Have more faith, _cherie_!" Francis pouted as he followed his lover down to the door. "It's not like I would let someone like Gilbert watch our little angels!"

"How did you say you know this lad, again?"

"He's a friend's friend's step brother's boyfriend!" The Frenchman retorted.

"That's not assuring…"

Arthur answered the door and he was quick to start judging the man there. His jolly face screamed "suspicious" to the Brit, and he appeared a bit too eager to shake his hand. But after speaking to him for a moment, he supposed the man- Tino being his name- would be fine to watch the boys for just a few hours. They said their goodnights to the boys and left it be for now.

* * *

Oh, how? _How?_ How could Arthur think this was a good idea?! Absolutely nothing had changed a bit since high school! It was the horrendous four years piling all over again on him as he reverted back to his wallflower persona. Besides the lack of piercings, band tees, and of course his old tattoos now being covered by his sleeves, he felt no different than before.

The music was loud enough to offer a pounding headache to the Brit, and the flashing lights that bordered the gymnasium made this get together nothing more than a pitiful rave. On top of it all, there wasn't a lick of alcohol throughout the entire building. He needed a cigarette.

Arthur took a sip of his punch as he scanned the room, hoping to find a familiar face he wouldn't mind conversing with for a while. And as if on cue, that familiar voice settled next to him.

"Didn't expect to see you here." A thick Norwegian accent, accompanied by a smirk leaned against the wall next to Arthur. He wasn't a very tall man, not compared to many from his homeland. But despite his rather scrawny figure, the enclosing demeanor that trailed him screamed menace.

Arthur glanced over and rolled his eyes a bit dramatically. "I could say the same to you." He grinned. "What brings you here? I'm surprised they let you back in after what you did at graduation."

Lukas shrugged some and clicked his tongue. "Mat wanted to meet all my old classmates." He motioned to the Dane across the room, easily making conversation. "Especially after I told him I'm only inviting four people to the wedding. But honestly, I think he's just jealous that he never got the full high school experience."

The Brit chuckled. "Oh, I _wish_ I could've been homeschooled." He joked and turned around as he felt a tap on his shoulder. His head turned and his smile grew. "Looks like the devil himself decided to show up."

The man gave a toothy grin to the duo, arms outstretched with hugs to offer. "It's been too long, my friends!" The brunet sang. Unlike the others, this man displayed a friendly front with a never withering smile. It was almost strange in a way, at least at first glance. Until you made your way down. Not many men _did_ wear a top hat or trench coat to a mere highschool reunion, but this guy seemed to break all the laws of dress code, anyway. He was definitely one of a kind to say the least.

Lukas gave a nod to the brunet. "How's "Transylvania" treating you? Still pulling the vampire act?" He greeted with a snicker.

Vladimir pouted some and flicked Lukas's head. "Not funny. But I'm doing fine, thank you very much." He turned to Arthur and hummed softly. "Aw, there's my little _Author_! How're the stories coming along?"

Arthur winced some. "I never did find someone to publish any of them.." He tried to bite down his pride and reluctantly continued. "I'm actually working a desk job now."

Lukas blinked. "That's rough buddy.."

Vlad quickly fixed his falling jaw, smiling sheepishly. "Well- tonight's not the night to worry about that!" He began and swung an arm around the duo's shoulders. "Tonight is the night we relive high school! We get to feel the things we used to, see the people we don't give a shit about, everything!" He took in a whiff. "Take it in, boys! Because tonight is _our_ night!"

A short silence came up amongst the trio. Lukas shifted while Arthur glanced around the room again. It took a moment, before Vlad shattered the silence.

"Was this what prom was like?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "How would we know? We spent both of them high off our arses. But that was pretty nice.."

"Speaking of that-" Lukas reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a clear bottle with no label. "It's sure as hell not weed, but it'll make tonight more interesting." He stuck it back quickly and looked around some to hold his cover.

"Now _that_ will make it more like highschool." With a giggle, Vlad hooked their arms. "Off to the bathroom we go~" He hummed as he lead the way with a skip in his step

This was definitely more like how Arthur remembered his youthful days; Laxing against the stone cold bathroom wall, just next to the sinks and ditching the world around him. Well, except usually he had a blunt hanging from his lips rather than a makeshift shot glass made from the liquor's bottle cap the trio was passing around. But this was more relaxing anyway.

Arthur took the bottle cap when it was his turn and threw his head back. He had greatly missed that striking burn slicing down his throat. To be honest, he wasn't even sure the type of liquor that Lukas had dragged along, but he couldn't complain in the slightest. Just after a few shots did the relaxation start to settle into Arthur's veins and a smile turned up on his lips.

"Say-" Vlad took the cap next. "What is it, anyway?" He shot it down and passed it off to Lukas

Pouring himself a shot, the Norwegian gave a short hum. "Akvavit. It's Mathias', I'm just borrowing it." He grinned and held up the cap. "Skål." He announced before throwing it back. He took a deep breath and handed it back to Vladimir, next pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one, setting it gently between his teeth.

Arthur watched his friend for a moment before he reached his hand out. There was no reason Lukas deserved to have all the fun, now was there. "Hit me." Besides, he would rather not feel as drowsy as he knew he would after taking a few more extra shots.

Lukas puffed out some smoke and blinked shortly. He gave a thought and twirled his cigarette. "Thought you gave up smoking when you adopted."

"That doesn't matter at the moment." And to him, it really didn't. It was one thing to go through a pack mercilessly, but one little smoke wouldn't be nearly enough to make him fall back in.

Without an argument, Lukas handed one over and lit it for him.

It was a familiar friend of his, really. One he almost regretted giving up. In the midst of the chaos and impending trainwreck that trapped him in his life, it was a breath of fresh air. He took it in eagerly, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. The smoke engulfed him quickly as he began to fall into a state of bliss.

"Man, I gotta say-" Vlad hiccuped with a ditzy smile curling his lips. "I really _fucking_ hated this school."

"Agreed." Lukas sipped from his bottle. "That's why I was never here." He chuckled, replacing the rim of his drink with a long drag. "Unless I was here for a good blunt."

"Or a good fuck~"

"Vladimir, I swear to God! You're so nasty~!"

Swallowing some, Arthur listened as he chewed some at the cigarette from his mouth. A good blunt was what he felt he really needed. Or maybe even a good fuck, he couldn't remember the last time he got that.

"You were the one coming onto _us_!" Lukas tossed the cap to Arthur. Vlad sunk to the floor, his eyes welling up as he held his stomach.

"But the thrill, Lukas! The _thrill_!" Vlad sat his head on Arthur's lap. "I do miss that janitor's closet.. Mr. Murphy wasn't happy about the mess we made.."

"Doesn't matter, he couldn't prove it was us.. But I feel bad about getting Ivan and Yao expelled for that."

"They were awfully cute.."

Arthur rolled his eyes and took another shot, coughing some. Blinking a few times, his sight was accompanied by a growing haze that glossed his eyes. "D-Do you know what I think?" He hiccuped. "This school is a load of _bollocks_." He pursed his lips some. "A-and if I could-" He hiccuped. "I would tell all those bastards _exactly_ what I think."

"Well," Vlad sat up some, tilting his head side to side in thought. "Now's your chance. A shitton of people from our class are here, there's no reason why you shouldn't give them a piece of your mind!" He cheered.

While listening to him, the Brit grew a large grin that spread across his lips. "You know what? Think I might-do that-" He slurred his words as he pulled himself up from the ground, putting his weight against the sink.

Lukas eyed the blond shortly before releasing a sigh. He grabbed Arthur to stabilize him and shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. We're not trying to get kicked out."

"G-get your hands off me-" Arthur pulled away, tripping a bit over his own two feet. "I-I can 'old my own." He rubbed his face some and trudged to the bathroom door.

"Obviously you cannot~" Vlad gave a laugh as he followed along, taking his arm gently. "Alright, alright, let's get you back to Franny-pants. He can take care of you."

Arthur wasn't listening to what they were saying anymore. Now with the idea ingrained in his brain, he had to do it. His head wasn't on straight, but he couldn't tell. His thoughts were narrowed and his decision was set. They were all going to know what he thought.

"Here, you hold him. I'm going to find Francis." Lukas told Vlad, letting the brunet take the weight of holding Arthur.

Vlad whined, looking to Arthur as he began.

"I-I'm fine-" The Brit hiccuped.

"Are you sure, Artie?" Vlad raised a brow, but didn't argue when Arthur nodded.

Finally out of his friend's grasp, he held the wall for a moment to help support him before he took some wobbly steps towards the stage. He was thankful that no suspicious eyes were drawn on him as he stumbled up on the stage.

He took a deep breath, composing himself but refusing to listen to any rational voice in his head. He tapped on one of the microphones, grasping the attention of the crowd below him before he grinned.

"I-I would like everyone's- attention~!" His announcement was coated with a soft drunken giggle. "As many of you know, I am Arthur Kirkland. I just wanted to say a few things-"

"Mon Dieu.." Francis mumbled under his breath when his eyes caught sight of his husband.

"Holy shit-" Lukas rubbed over his face a few times. Even with alcohol running in his veins, he knew this was not going to end well…

"First~" Arthur hiccuped. " _Fuck..._ all of you!" He swayed a bit on the stage. He was ready to spit the venom that possessed his thoughts for years. The gasps and murmurs that scattered throughout the gymnasium only pushed Arthur forward.

"Oh, don't- a-act all surprised!" His eyes rolled and he continued on. "You are all bastards and bitches!" His eyes scanned the crowd and he called out a few peers. "Did daddy pay for those fake boobs, Liza? Easier to sleep with your boss that way-" He went on. "O-oh, Jake! 'Heard you flunked out-M-must be pitiful to a- a _complete_ failure." He nearly stumbled, but held onto the microphone stand as he exclaimed. "You're all bloody f-fucking wankers!" And with that, Arthur's back was towards the audience. Quickly following was the drop of his pants, and a clear image of his ass was presented to the crowd, along with the flashing of the bird.

Anyone could see the red on Francis' face from a mile away. He knew Arthur didn't like to look in the past, but he _never_ imagined it would be this bad. But this wasn't him. No, Arthur was generally much more composed in a public setting. He was under the influence of something. And he had a sneaking suspicion as to how he got there.

"Now you've done it.." Lukas finally worked up the nerve to retrieve his friend from the stage. He knew he could never reach the level of mortification that Francis was at, but he was battling his own feelings. The guilt of getting Arthur to this point was piling up quickly, yet so was anger towards Vlad for letting him out of his sight. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do about it now.

"L-let go-" Arthur flailed a little in his friend's arm.

"No. I'm taking you to Francis." Lukas nearly shuddered as they approached the Frenchman and it got ugly quickly. He cowered slightly at the scene.

"What was that?!" Francis scolded his husband, rubbing over his face. "Mon dieu! What has gotten into you?!" He wasn't sure what to do other than blow up. Even now, all eyes were drawn on them and the embarrassment was beginning to wear Francis down.

"Sh-shut up-" Arthur swung at him some. "I….ve. Had this on my mind-" The slur of his words sewed shut any chance of understanding the reasoning for his outburst. But frankly, Francis couldn't care.

"I can't do this right now." Francis shook his head and refused to take the weight of his husband in his arms. "You better hope the Alfred and Matthew aren't awake when we get home-"

"W-who?" Arthur tilted his head.

And that was the final straw for Francis. He wasn't sure if Arthur was just _that_ shitfaced or if he was being an ass, but that was enough to push him over the edge. " _Non_. _Non,_ I'm not taking you home." He decided, already turning away from the other blonds. He knew he was being a bit childish, but he had more faith in Arthur. Especially when they had two young boys at home. Letting them see dad drunk was _not_ an option.

"Woah, wait!" Lukas groaned. "What the hell am I supposed to do with him?!"

"Take him to your place, I don't care." Francis couldn't be bothered to face the duo any longer.

"Drittsekk." Lukas grumbled under his breath, but led the Brit over to his fiance. "Someone got kicked out of their place." He explained bitterly.

Mathias looked Arthur up and down before he offered an awkward smile. "Well, we've got a couch at home."

"You're missing the point." Lukas grit his teeth, still holding Arthur close to his side to prevent him from causing anymore mayhem. Dealing with him sober was hard enough, but now he had to hold his hand like a mother would.

"Hey, be nice." Mathias exhaled tiredly. This wasn't how he wanted to end the evening, but then again, it was their night, not his. "Guess we should head back, then." He pulled out his keys and helped support Arthur on the way out.

Lukas had no problem leaving the Brit on the couch that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please R&R. Thanks!


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